Always loving
by broadband-net
Summary: This is a H/H fic, don't worry. Harry defeated Voldermort, but is that his only enemy?
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: Harry Potter DOES NOT belong to me, so don't sue or anything. =P  
  
A/N: This would be my first successful Harry Potter fanfiction. Most of my fanfictions (all 3 of them) are Star Wars fanfic, so if I make any mistakes in my fic, I beg forgiveness. Anyway, I shall leave my ramblings for a later time. =P. Here starts the story.  
  
  
  
The clock from the old church tower not far from Privet Drive rang twelve times, signaling the start of a new day. Almost everybody in Privet Drive was asleep, as good old boring people are at midnight. However, there was one person, a boy, who was still wide awake.  
  
"Happy sixteenth birthday, Harry," he muttered to himself, as he opened the window. Almost immediately, four owls flew into his bedroom. He grinned as his eyes located his own snow-white owl blemished with several dark spots - Hedwig, a scrawny looking owl known commonly to his best friend Ronald Weasley as Pig and another owl carrying a huge parcel and an envelope bearing the seal of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  
  
He ripped open the letter from his friend Ron, who had been visiting his brother Charlie in Romania during the holidays. He scanned through the letter and his grin grew wider. He reached over for the parcel that Pig had carried, and opened it impatiently.  
  
"All right! It's the history of all the past Quidditch Cup matches ever! Thank you Ron," Harry exclaimed quietly to himself, careful not to wake up his Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia. Thank goodness Dudley was away on a school trip, otherwise Harry's life would be hell during the holidays. The Dursley hated Harry for two reasons; one, because Harry was the son of James and Lily Potter, who the Dursley thought of as good-for-nothing scums, and two, because (if you haven't realized by now) Harry Potter wasn't exactly the most normal guy in the world. He was a wizard, and a very famous wizard at that. He defeated Voldermort, the most feared and evil Wizard of all times, when he was just a wee little baby of one.  
  
He reached over for the next package, this time gently opening the carefully sealed letter. He smiled as he recognized Hermoine (another of his best friend)'s neat handwriting. His eyes scanned through the letter.  
  
"Dear Harry, How are you? I hope the Dursleys are treating you OK. I heard Ron's away in Romania. Did you see his picture? He looked so tanned! He's grown up to look just like Percy, don't you think?  
  
Anyway, I had a great time in Bulgaria. Viktor and his parents were wonderful hosts. I had tons of fun. Anyway, can't write anymore. Hedwig's getting impatient. I'll see you tomorrow at the Hogwards Express!  
  
Love, Hermione."  
  
Harry folded the paper gingerly, and placed it neatly in a small box, where he had kept Hermoine's letters from over the years. He had been having a crush on her since second year, but he knew she didn't feel the same way about him. They were the best of friends, closer than siblings, and they've been through a lot together. He would rather rip his heart out than jeopardize his friendship with Hermoine. He had wanted to tell her, but he was too shy. In third year, with the dementors and all, he didn't have a chance. In forth year, Hermoine decided to go steady with Viktor Krum, but they parted shortly as good friends before their fifth year. He thought that it would be his chance, but Ron got there before him. His fifth year was one of the most painful years of his life, seeing Ron and Hermoine together every second of every day.  
  
Harry sat back on his chair. He had nearly killed himself when he saw Ron and Hermoine together. The only thing that kept him going was seeing her happy. Ron and Hermoine had broken up just recently, deciding to stay as friends. Apparently Ron's jealousy had gotten the better of him when he found out that Hermoine was going to visit Viktor. He sighed; after all these years, he was used to liking her secretly. He had lost all hope in trying to tell her about his feelings.  
  
"Stay as friends. That's the best," he told himself, with the tone of a resigned man. He reached over for the last package, smiling at the untidy scrawl of Hagrid, a half-giant. He ripped open the parcel wrapped up in sheets of past issues of 'The Daily Prophet', the wizarding world newspaper. He opened the book to find a dusty photo album, rather thick, and a note pasted on top. "Managed to find it. Happy Birthday Harry. Enjoy."  
  
Harry flipped through the photo album, and he stared in wonder at 'the gang' back when they were kids. The gang referring to James Potter, Sirius, Remus and the rest. He thanked Hagrid silently, and then proceeded to hide the photo album under the loose floorboard, where the rest of his homework laid. Lastly he reached for the letter bearing the official Hogswarts seal. He scanned the letter informing him the books to buy . . . blah blah blah. Ron had already volunteered to help buy Harry's books, so he didn't have to worry about that. His dress robes had already been bought by Mrs Weasley. Harry gave a yawn, and then staggered to bed, looking forward to the next day.  
  
+++  
  
"I'll come pick you up when your term ends," Vernon Dursley grunted, without looking at his nephew. Harry was used to it, and he nodded.  
  
"Goodbye Uncle Vernon," he muttered, being a typical well-mannered young man. His uncle gave another disgruntled, well, grunt, and drove off, leaving Harry to wheel his trolley over to Platforms 9 and 3-quarters. As he reached the pillar, he broke into a run, and rushed through the barrier, and was once again amazed at how different the wizarding world was. The train gave a loud screech as a signal to tell everyone that it was moving off, and Harry hurriedly rushed over to the carriage where Ron, Hermoine and him had been sitting in since their first year. He left his trolley to a porter, and walked inside the carriage.  
  
"Harry!" A chorus of greeting from his two best friends made Harry grin. He sat down next to Ron, opposite Hermoine, and pushed up his glasses that covered his green eyes. His unruly dark hair was getting a little too long and it covered the lightning bolt scar on his forehead and half of his ears. The back of his hair scraped against the collar of his Hogwarts robe. Despite his unruly hair, Harry was a very handsome young man, with his broad shoulders and defined muscles.  
  
His best friend Ron had grown up too. Puberty had hit him, and he had grown taller and lankier, making him half a head taller than Harry. His red curls were neatly combed( for once ), and he had a bright grin that brightened up his boyish face. Harry turned to Hermoine with a smile, and was once again, blown away by her beauty.  
  
Her reddish-blondish-brownish hair fell in soft waves around her face. While it used to be bushy, it had grown to be soft and luscious. Her brown eyes shone brightly and her full lips were pulled back in a sweet smile. Both Harry and Ron had long towered over her petite (at least when next to them) frame.  
  
"So how was the holiday?" Harry asked, looking at Hermoine. Before she could reply, Ron cut in excitedly, babbling about dragons and something about wanting them as pets. Harry only stared in contentment at Hermoine as she began lecturing Ron on how illegal it was, not to mention dangerous.  
  
Before he knew it, they had reached Hogwarts. Harry slung his both his arms over the shoulders of his two best friends, and they walked up the steps to the entrance. Despite the noise, Ron and Hermoine heard Harry's soft mutter.  
  
"Welcome home, Harry."  
  
+++  
  
Well? Well? How was it? I know there's very little H/H now. But there will be more, I promise you that. Review please, so I'll know how much I suck. No flames though, I beg of you. I do want a semblance of my ego intact at the end. =P. REVIEW!!! 


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters. Sue me not. I have only six dollars and some cents to my name.  
  
A/N: Yay! Updating already! Very fast huh? I'm really over-enthusiastic about this fic. That and because I finally have a new computer in my room and I can now write fanfictions to my heart's content. Yipee-doo! Anyway, why am I even rambling all these to you? After all, it's the story you guys want to read, right? =P  
  
^^ are thoughts.  
  
It's been two weeks since Harry Potter went back to Hogwarts. Life was normal for him, between trying to finish all his homework, cramming for tests by Professor Snape (who seemed even more bent on making Harry's life hell in his second last year in Hogwarts), hanging out with his friends and practicing Quidditch, especially ever since he had been made captain after an unanimous vote by the entire team (only one person opposed to it - Harry.)  
  
"Harry." Hearing his name, Harry turned around and grinned boyishly, brightening up his face. Hermoine walked over to him, half staggering by the number of books in her arm. Harry tucked his wand inside his robe and reached over to carry the books in her arm, thus relieving her suffering and gaining a grateful smile from her.  
  
"You know Herm, our OWLs were just over. This year is supposed to be relaxing, so that we can study for our NEWTs next year. If you're going to cram everything this year, what are you going to study for next year?" Harry stated, as they made their way to the Gryffindor common room. It was a bright day, and everyone was out enjoying the weather. Hermoine and Harry were the only ones in the common room. Harry gently put her books down on a table, and flopped down on a comfortable two person couch. He slung his arm casually over the back of the couch, and patted the space next to her. "Have a seat," he offered.  
  
Hermoine sat down next to him, sighing. "You do realize that I'm taking a lot more subjects than you? I have to do well for my NEWTs. I was so upset when I saw my OWLs results."  
  
"You had fourteen OWLs, Herm!"  
  
"I take fifteen subjects, remember?" She reminded him.  
  
"Of course, how could I forget?" Harry said in a tone laced with sarcasm, slamming his palm on his forehead. "You did terribly, Herm, just terrible! Of course, normal people like me take only ten subjects, and only managed to get seven OWLs. How terrible pathetic. Maybe I should just go kill myself." He grinned cheekily at her. "What do you think?"  
  
Just as he hoped, it caused a smile in her gloomy face. She leaned against the couch, where Harry's arm laid, and rested her head on it. Immediately, Harry turned a bright pink. He cleared his throat and willed himself to act normal, as opposed to jumping around. Thank goodness Hermoine didn't seem to notice a thing.  
  
"You know Harry? I can always count on you to make things better. Don't ever go away ok?" She said with an easy smile, to show that she was half- joking. Harry, however, was very serious when he replied her.  
  
"I promise."  
  
+++  
  
Hermoine looked at Harry, somewhat surprised. His joking manner seemed to fade away like the rapidly darkening sky, and in its place was a seriousness she had seldom seen, not even when Harry was at his lowest. Even when fighting Voldermort, or at his most angry, or most concentrated, he always had an aura of hope and never-ceasing mischievousness. Now, he was just plain serious. The words "I promise" still rang in her mind, and with Harry's intense stare, she felt uncomfortable.  
  
Making light of the situation, she smiled at him. "I'll hold you to that," she warned, wagging her finger at Harry. There was a moment of silence, and suddenly Harry broke into a semblance of his typical grin. Hermoine returned his grin and they both sat there in comfortable silence, as the rest of the Gryffindor house poured into the common room.  
  
Hermoine turned her head slightly to look at her best friend, a slight frown on her forehead. Harry had changed, that much she would admit. He had grown taller, broader, stronger, more intense - different. There was something about him that was different, and yet she couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was. It was everything about him. He has changed; gone through the transition from a boy to a man.  
  
^Don't be silly, Granger. He's still Harry. ^ As if to punctuate her thought, Harry turned to her with a cheeky grin, before bouncing up from his seat to join the rest of the guys in some friendly teasing over Neville Longbottom. Hermoine stared at him as he walked over. ^There, see. Harry. Just Harry. Sweet, consistent Harry. I can't believe you found him attractive. All these studying must have gave you temporary insanity. Like when you went out with Ron. ^  
  
As all these thoughts ran through her head as she went up the stairs to her dorm, books in hand, little did she know that the subject of her thoughts had been staring at her from where he stood.  
  
+++  
  
A/N: Well, it is a lot shorter than the first chapter, but I still hope it met up to your expectations. Hermoine's beginning to notice Harry! Yippee! =P  
  
By the way, I'm a really angsty person (as difficult as it is to believe) so this fic will probably be slightly angsty too. I'll try to give a happy ending, but no promises though. OK! Enough scaring for the day. Read and Review! Yes, REVIEW. It's a set - You read, then you review! =P 


	3. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: Not mine. You know the drill; don't sue.  
  
A/N: Wow, I'm updating almost daily. But it is the school holidays now and I have plenty of free time. However, I might not be able to write so frequently, so I ask patience from you guys, OK? And again, why am I even rambling so much to you guys? *talk show host voice* And without further ado, let's get on with Chapter 3 of the story! =P  
  
^^ means thoughts.  
  
"Mr Potter, if you would be so kind as to PAY ATTENTION!" The icy cold voice of Professor Snape drawled out, causing the other half of the class, where the Slytherin sat, to burst out in laughter.  
  
"Typical Potter behavior," a voice from the back of the class drawled out. Harry, who had snapped out of his reverie, Ron and Hermoine turned around to see their worst enemy, Draco Malfoy, with a smirk on his face.  
  
"Shut up, Malfoy," Hermoine said, as she started to turn back her head. His next few words stopped her, however.  
  
"Well well, the mudblood defending the famous Potter. Hey Potter, I didn't know you like defective goods. Even Weasley here saw the light." Draco gave a satisfied smirk, knowing that he had hit Hermoine where it really hurts. Hermoine felt the back of her eyes burn and quickly blinked back her tears. Her actions did not go unnoticed by the resident hero, Harry Potter. His eyes only saw red, and he reached into his robes to pull out his wand. He set his jaw grimly, his jaw muscle tensed. Before he could say an attack however, Ron beat him to it.  
  
"Expelliarmus!" A flash of light shot out from Ron's wand and hit Malfoy right in the chest.  
  
"Mr Weasley, attacking a fellow student in MY class! Have you no respect for me?" Snape snapped out loud, as he gestured for Crabbe and Goyle to take Malfoy to the hospital wing.  
  
"But Professor, you heard what Malfoy said about Hermoine," Harry cut in hotly. Snape gave a cold smile. "I only heard the truth, Mr Potter." He turned his attention back to Ron. "You, detention for A MONTH, everyday! I will not tolerate fighting in MY class. Fifty points from Gryffindor." Snape walked back to his desk. "Class is dismissed. Mr Weasley, you are to start your detention with immediate effect."  
  
Both Harry and Hermoine gave Ron sympathetic glances as they made their way out of the classroom. As they headed towards the common room, Harry sneaked a glance at Hermoine. Her hazel eyes were unusually bright, and her mouth was pursed shut. She was gripping her books so tightly that her knuckles had turned white. Gingerly, Harry reached over and touched her hand lightly.  
  
"Are you all right?"  
  
"I'm fine, I mean, why wouldn't I be all right," she replied, forcing a grin. She averted eyes away from Harry, refusing to meet his sympathetic stare. Slowly, almost unconsciously, Harry closed his larger hand over her small one. Hermoine looked up at him, and she shook her head. "No, I'm not."  
  
Harry took her books away from her, and stepped off the moving staircase, leading her towards a dim corridor. "Harr-," Hermoine started, but Harry stopped her. "Trust me," he said, pulling her hand as he led her down the corridor. After what it seemed like many twists and turns, he took out a key and opened a door. Hermoine gasped.  
  
The room was in shades of red and gold, with a warm blazing fire dancing about in the fireplace. There was a shelf full of dusty old books, a oak table and several comfortable couches and chairs. There was even a four- poster bed at the corner of the room. It looked just like the Gryffindor common room (minus the bed).  
  
"Harry, where. . . how?"  
  
"Dumbledore gave it to me. Remember last year, when the whole OWLs and Voldermort and Quidditch were just too much for me and I almost broke down? Dumbledore thought it would do me good if I spent some time alone. No one knows about this place, not even Filch or McGonagall."  
  
"So this is the place you've been all along?" Hermoine asked, and Harry nodded. What he wanted to add was that it wasn't just the OWLs, and Voldermort, and Quidditch that caused him to be so stressed. It was seeing her with Ron. Harry walked over to a couch and tilted his head slightly, inviting her to join him.  
  
As she sat down, Harry gathered up his courage, and finally blurted out. "Do you still love Ron?" Hermoine kept quiet, instead looking at the fire. Harry didn't want to prod, but he needed to know. "Herm? Do you?"  
  
"I don't know Harry," she finally admitted. Her hazel eyes looked into Harry's green eyes, and he damn nearly forgot how to breathe. "I don't think I love him anymore, but I do miss him." She gave a bitter laugh. "Silly, am I?"  
  
"No," Harry protested. "You're anything but silly. You're an intelligent and beautiful girl."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Am I really beautiful?" Hermoine asked. Harry looked at her, and a small smile crept into his face.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Hermoine gave a wide smile, and reached over to hug Harry. "Thank you, Harry." She untangled herself from him. "You always know how to cheer me up. You're like the brother I always wanted."  
  
+++  
  
"Yes," Harry had replied, speaking right from his heart. Hermoine reached over to hug him, and Harry's heart nearly stopped. He forced himself to calm down. ^Not now, Harry. You can hyperventilate later.^  
  
"Thank you Harry," Hermoine said, finishing the embrace. ^Come back,^ Harry wanted to yell, but he didn't. His heart was soaring to the clouds, but in the next instant, it tumbled right down to Earth again. "You always know how to cheer me up. You're like the brother I always wanted."  
  
Harry's smile faded, and he turned away from her. "Brother," he repeated tonelessly. Seeming clueless to his expression, Hermoine nodded. Harry kept quiet.  
  
Hermoine surveyed her friend's expression; his intense green eyes were fixed on the burning fire. His jaw muscle was tensed up, and she could see stubbles of hair growing on his jaw. His unruly black hair stuck up a little behind, and she could see just a hint of the lightning scar underneath his thick hair that poured over his forehead. He looked very handsome. She could see the resemblance between him and his father. It seemed with each day that past, he had grown up to be more like his father.  
  
"Harry," Hermoine started. "Are you all right?" Harry wanted to assure her that he was fine, but he couldn't. Her words had hurt him more than she would ever know. He swallowed hard, and then gave a grunt. Hermoine frowned. "Harry, what's wrong?"  
  
"I don't want to be your brother," he choked out finally. He turned to her and fixed his gaze on her, trying to draw strength as he attempted to tell her how he felt. "I've kept it inside for so long now, Herm. I've wanted to tell you, but I thought it was just a crush, that it would fade. And then the dementors came and I didn't have a chance to tell you how I felt. Then Viktor, and Ron." Harry stopped at that, looking harder at Hermoine, who seemed to stunned for words. "I love you, Hermoine. Not as a friend or brother. I really do love you."  
  
"Harry, is this a joke?" Hermoine snapped coldly. "Because this is not funny." Hermoine hadn't meant for the words to come out so coldly, but she couldn't stop herself.  
  
Harry stood up and walked towards the door, before pausing. He looked over his shoulder, and shook his head. "I wish it was, Hermoine. I wish I didn't have to fall in love with you. I wish I could think with my mind instead of my heart. But I can't." He reached for the doorknob, before pausing again. "I'm sorry."  
  
+++  
  
A/N: Well, what do you think? Review please please please. 


	4. Chapter Four

Disclaimer: Sadly, Harry Potter does not belong to me. I mean, if it was up to me, I would be killing Voldermort off and writing a love story. But that's just me.  
  
A/N: I strike again. This whole nothing-to-do during the holidays is really improving my updating life, huh? =P I'm writing this in the middle of the night; somehow I get more inspiration at 1:37am. =P. OK. I really should stop this pre-story rambling and actually get on with the story right? =P  
  
It's been a week since that fateful day, and the first match of the Quidditch season. While the entire Gryffindor room was bursting with enthusiam, there was a lone figure sitting at one corner of the room. Harry gripped his broom tightly as the whistle blew loudly, signaling for both Quidditch teams to assemble. He led the team to the front of the arena, and turned around, preparing to give his usual pre-match captain speeches. His eyes met Ron's, who gave him a cold glare and quickly turned away. Ron had heard about what happened, and for some weird reason, was upset at Harry too. For the past week, Harry had never felt more alone.  
  
Clearing his throat, he rose to his full six foot two. "All right team. I want a fair game. Put all your differences aside and COOPERATE as team," he enuciated clearly, with a sharp glance at Ron. "Go Gryffindor!"  
  
As they walked out into the stadium, the crowd burst into cheers, or at least the red and gold part of the crowd were cheering. The other part, clad in green and silver, booed. Harry mounted his firebolt and flew up in the air, stopping about fifty feet from the ground. Before long, the match was in full course.  
  
Ron, who was a beater, swooped over and whacked the bludger just before it hit Harry. The two boys looked at each other, and nodded, both agreeing to a temporary truce. As Gryffindor gained more points, Slythein became more desperate, resorting to underhand methods. Katie Bell was knocked off her broom. However, Gryffindor heeded their captain's advice and played fair.  
  
Harry's sharp eyes suddenly caught side of a small little golden ball, a couple of feet below. Immediately, he swooped down so fast that he looked just like the lightning on his forehead. So intent was he on the snitch that he did not notice a body slam right into him - Draco Malfoy. He fell off his broom, and in a wild and desperate action, made a grab for the snitch as he fell.  
  
+++  
  
Hermoine looked at the Quidditch scene, telling herself that she only went there because of Ron. However, it was very difficult to avoid Harry, who dashed around the stadium like a madman on a broom. As she surveyed the match, Harry swooped down, and with squinting eyes, she realized that he had found the snitch.  
  
Suddenly everything seemed to appear in slow motion. Draco Malfoy knew he would never ever be able to get snitch while Harry was there, and so in desperate measures, he had flung himself full speed at Harry. Harry fell off his broom, his hands grabbing wildly. As Hermoine watched in horror, Harry fell fifty feet towards the soft, muddy ground. As everyone watched in silence, a bludger that had been roaming around slammed into Harry's left arm.  
  
Without a second thought, Hermoine rushed down. Making her way through the gathering crowd, she caught sight of Ron. Opening her mouth to ask Ron about the situation, her voice got caught in her throat. She stopped as she gazed at the barely conscious Harry. His body was sprawled over the floor in an uncomfortable and awkward manner. Blood dripped from his forehead, and his left arm was hung in what looked like a very painful angle. She gasped aloud, unable to stop herself.  
  
Harry opened his eyes, and immediately winced at the pain. He wanted to cry out, but he couldn't. Gathering up all his strength, he opened the palm of his right arm, and revealed the tiny, golden winged ball. He had caught the snitch.  
  
"Harry Potter has caught the snitch! Gryffindor wwiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnsssss!" The announcer cried out. Harry gave a small, satisfied smile, before allowing the darkness to engulf him."  
  
+++  
  
Hermoine sat next to Harry. They were in a private room in the hospital wing. Apparently his injuries were serious enough to award him a private room by himself. Only his close friends were allowed in. Ron had already been to visit, but he had to leave because of detention, hence leaving Hermoine alone with the comatose Harry.  
  
Hermoine swept away her wavy brown hair from her face, tucking them behind her ear. She reached over for Harry's hand, which was pale and cool, a huge contrast from his tanned and warm one. "Harry, can you hear me? Please wake up. You're scaring me." There was no response. Hermoine felt her tears rising up. "Harry, I don't know what I'll do if you're gone. You promised me, you said you'll never leave me."  
  
Unable to control herself, she placed her head on his chest and started sobbing. "I love you Harry, I do." And she did. She always had, although she had never realized it before. It was only now, when he was unconscious and at the doorstep of death that she could finally admit that. "I've always loved you. I was always worried about you. When you fought Voldermort last year, I cried, thnking you won't be able to make it. But you did. You defeated him - for good. Harry, please wake up."  
  
By now, she was babbling frantically, willing him to wake up. "I love you, you moron. I love you."  
  
"Took you a long time to figure that out," a quiet, familiar voice rang out. Hermoine lashed back her head and stared. Harry gave her a tired and painful smile, his green eyes sparkling brightly. Hermoine hit on lightly on the chest, before apologizing as he winced in pain.  
  
"I'm so sorry. Did it hurt?"  
  
Harry shook his head, giving her a smile. Their eyes locked and Harry gave a small, tentative smile. Hermoine leaned over slowly, and their lips met in a sweet embrace. Neither one had ever experience such a kiss before, especially not Harry since it was his first one. When they finally parted for air, Hermoine looked at him shyly.  
  
"I love you," he whispered to her, ignoring the pain that was shooting up his left arm.  
  
"Go and sleep," she coaxed, as his grip on her hand tightened. Harry shook his head, like a child who had been denied his favourite toy.  
  
"I don't want to. I'm afraid this is all just one of my dreams, and you'll disappear when I wake up."  
  
A simple statement, and yet it bought tears to Hermoine's eyes. She gave him a small smile. "I'll be here when you wake up. I promise." As if reassure by her reply, Harry nodded, and closed his eyes, welcoming the much needed sleep.  
  
+++  
  
A/N: Awww.. ! But this is still not the end. Did I mention I'm a really angsty person? This story will continue. Review please please please. The more the better! 


	5. Chapter Five

Disclaimer: Not mine.  
  
A/N: I just had a fight with my brother, and I'm really upset now. I'm going to need some fluff to cheer me up. So here goes. My attempt at a fluffy chapter.  
  
^^ means thoughts.  
  
Harry and Hermoine walked hand in hand towards the common room. The sixteen year old boy had just been discharged from the hospital wing - one of the worst injuries Madam Promfrey had seen. It was their first day as an 'official' couple. As they walked along the corridor, many stopped to point, mostly girls. Some had happy expression on their faces, while others crestfallen. News traveled quickly, and by the time Harry and Hermoine reached the Fat Lady that covered the hole to the common room, the whole school had heard.  
  
The resident hero was finally attached.  
  
+++  
  
Ron stood to one side, his eyes glinting in jealousy. Though he had broken up with Hermoine, he still thought of her as his, and seeing her with Harry brought out the little green monster again. As the common room burst into good natured cheers, he gave the couple another cold look, before lumbering up to the dorm.  
  
Harry wasn't blind to Ron's reaction. In fact, the first person he sought out in the noisy room was Ron. When he saw Ron stumbled up the stairs to the dorm, he frowned. ^I've gotta talk to Ron. Soon.^ Hermoine gave his hand a squeeze and he looked down at her, with raised eyebrows. She mouthed the word 'homework', and Harry nodded, both settling down to finish their homework.  
  
After hours, when all of Gryffindor were asleep, Harry finally finished the homework that had piled up while he was in the hospital. He gave a yawn, glad that the next day was a Saturday and there were no lessons. He stretched his neck and back, standing up from the chair. As he looked around the room with another yawn, he gave a amused smile. Hermoine was asleep on the two-person couch, looking unbelieveably tranquil and peaceful. Harry walked over towards her and gently prodded her. She opened her eyes slightly, gave him a sleepy smile, and adjusted herself so that there was just enough space for another person to squeeze in.  
  
"Isn't it uncomfortable?" Harry asked, denying the place, instead squatting down beside the couch, to enable eye contact with her. "Your bed would be more comfortable."  
  
Hermoine gave a sleepy "hmph", pressing her hair to her head, and groaned. "Oh no. I have sleepy hair-do. Someone's going to think I have a dead chicken in it." Harry gave a deep laugh, and shook his head.  
  
"You look beautiful," he told her softly. Hesitating for a moment, he leaned forward and gave her a kiss on her nose. "Like an angel."  
  
Hermoine graced him with a shy smile. "Really?"  
  
"My angel," Harry affirmed. Finally accepting Hermoine's insistent pulling on his sleeves, he stood up and sat down next to her. She cuddled up against his broad chest and after a few awkward actions, Harry managed to cradle her in the spoon position. "Sorry," he apologized. "First time," he explained with a sheepish smile. Hermoine laughed sweetly, and Harry smiled happily. "I like seeing you happy," he informed her.  
  
"You do?"  
  
"Yeah. I hate it when you have a frown on your face. I hate it when you have a tear in your eye." Harry paused, and kissed her head. "I don't like knowing you're upset." He closed his hand over her own. "I don't want to ever make you sad because of me," he promised.  
  
Hermoine shifted her upper body so that she could look down on Harry, who raised his chin slightly to meet her eyes. "You can't ever do that," she told him. At Harry's questioning stare, she continued. "Make me sad." One corner of Harry's lips turned up in a small smile.  
  
"Thank you," he whispered. Hermoine looked at him; his bright green eyes that were covered by circular shaped framed spectacles, his tentative gaze, his half-smile. Slowly, she reached out and gently took out his spectacles. Harry swallowed, but he didn't lose eye contact with her. As if he was the south pole, and she the north, their lips were drawn to each other.  
  
Hermoine closed her eyes as their lips met in a soft kiss, then two, then three. Or was it the same kiss? Hermoine couldn't tell. She felt a wave of emotions go through her. Passion, tenderness, happiness, love. Reluctantly, Harry let her go. She shifted her body downwards so that her head touched his chest, and she hugged him tight. Harry wrapped his strong arms around her possessively, willing for time to stop still.  
  
"I've never felt this way before, Harry. I'm scared," she admitted, listening to the sound of his heartbeat.  
  
"So am I, Herm. So am I," he told her. As her head tucked into the curve of his chin, he couldn't help but marveled at how they seemed to be mould as one. "I love you, Hermoine Granger."  
  
"I love you too, Harry Potter."  
  
+++  
  
A/N: There you go. Pure fluff! Review please. No reviews, no story. Uh uh. *I'm being a brat aren't I?* =P. Please please review!!! 


	6. Chapter Six

Disclaimer: Don't sue. I have nothing to my name. Not even my six dollars! =P  
  
A/N: I'm in a better mood now. So aha! It's time for an angst-filled chapter. Ironic isn't it? When I'm upset, I write fluff. And when I'm happy, I wrote angst. Anyway, ramblings aside, here goes the story.  
  
"Hey Ron! Wait up. Ron," Harry dashed across the lawn, placing a hand on his friend to stop him. Ron turned angrily, pulling his robe from Harry's strong grip. He stared down at Harry, his face as red as his hair.  
  
"What do you want?" he asked curtly.  
  
"Look Ron, I know you don't like seeing Herm and me together. Hell, I know how you feel. I've had the same feelings when YOU were going out with her." Harry pushed up his glasses, and pushed back his hair that had flopped over his eyes. "Ron, I love her."  
  
Ron, who had been opening his mouth in retaliation, closed it again. Despite his jealousy, he knew Harry deserved it, after all that he had been through in his life. He needed someone who truly loved him, Ron realized, and Hermoine might be the only person who could show him that. She was the next best thing Harry could hope for, after his parents, and everyone knew there was no hope in that happening.  
  
Harry, who had been standing next to Ron patiently, finally said. "Ron? If you don't like seeing us together, then we'll try not to be with each other when you're in the room.  
  
"What if I don't want you to be together at all?" came the hard, cold question. Ron had half-wanted to give them his blessings, but he caught sight of Hermoine walking towards them, and his pride took over.  
  
+++  
  
Hermoine had heard the question as she walked towards the two boys, both so close to her. Turning to Harry, she looked at him, waiting for his response. On his part, Harry kept silent. His green eyes darted from Hermoine to Ron, before resting them on Hermoine again. She saw the answer in his eyes even before he spoke it out, and she shook her head subtly, pleadingly.  
  
"Then we won't be," Harry choked out. His hands were clenched tightly, his face red. "We won't be, not without you blessing. Bloody hell Ron, you're my closest friend. You're the closest thing I have to family. I won't do anything without you supporting me."  
  
Ron studied his best friend, and a reluctant smile appeared on his face. "Congrats, old boy," he said. "You deserve it." Harry nodded his thanks. Ron looked over at Hermoine, and caught her smile. He smiled back in return, and excused himself tactfully, leaving Harry and Hermoine together.  
  
Harry watched Ron leave, and he turned to Hermoine, who turned up to look at him, with arched eyebrows. He knew he had some damage control to do, and he led her towards the end of the lawn, a place where few ventured because it was so far. As they walked, he could feel her glance every now and then, but not a word he said.  
  
He led her to a solitary stone bench under a huge tree. She sat down, and after a moment's hesitation, he sat down next to her. "Well? Are you going to explain?" she asked.  
  
Harry took her hand, and was grateful when she didn't pull away. He stared at the castle in the distant, looking thoughtful, as if trying to think of the right thing to say. And he was, but he finally decided to tell the truth. After all, what was a relationship without truth?  
  
"I knew how it felt," he began, squeezing her hand, as if drawing strength from it. He closed his eyes tightly as the painful memories resurfaced into his brain. "I remember seeing you and Ron, and hating it. I remember the cuts I felt deep in my heart, each time you looked at him. I remember the pain when you kissed him. I remember the anger each time he took your hand. I remember the jealousy, each time you smiled at him." Harry stopped, as those feelings stirred his emotions once again.  
  
"I remember the hope, wishing it was me with you," he finished quietly. He avoided her sympathetic gaze. He didn't want her pity, he didn't need it. He needed her to understand. He needed her to love him. "I don't want Ron to feel the same way. Those feelings can tear you apart."  
  
"Voldermort knew," Harry confessed, not noticing the flinch Hermoine gave when he spoke the name of the now-defeated wizard. "He knew I was vulnerable, he knew it was tearing me up. That's why he striked. That's why I nearly died. That's why Dumbledore gave me the key to the secret room. That's why I spent hours in there, away from you and Ron."  
  
Hermoine felt her warm tears surface, creating pools in her big, brown eyes. She had never known Harry had felt that way about her relationship with Ron. She held hold to his warm hand tightly. "Harry, I'm so sorry. I didn't know."  
  
"How could you?" was his bitter response. "You had eyes only for Ron." Hermoine flinched, although she knew Harry didn't mean it meanly. She knew the depths of his soul; she knew he didn't blame neither she nor Ron, although they were the cause of his breakdown.  
  
"You could have told me," she whispered, using her other hand to lightly trace his jaw line, his short stubbles of hair that Harry had missed while shaving feeling rough to her touch. "Harry, you could tell me anything."  
  
There was a silence. After what seemed like eternity, Harry looked at her, and gave a bittersweet smile. "You were happy," he told her. "I would never deny you that. Never."  
  
Hermoine heard his words, heard the pain, heard the contentment weaved into the pain. Reaching out, she placed one hand on the back of his head, pushing him towards her. He hugged her tightly, suffocating her, and yet she didn't mind. She returned the embrace with the same amount of passion. Letting go, he lowered his head and she raised hers.  
  
Kissing Hermoine was a refuge, Harry would later think. A shelter, where he could feel safe, where he could be happy. A place where he could finally feel love again, an emotion denied to him for so long.  
  
+++  
  
A/N: Next chapter all done! So, what did you think? All right, I don't care. I want reviews, otherwise there won't be a next chapter. =P. Oh fine, I'll probably still write the next chapter, but I really really want you guys to review. Boost my ego a little, will ya? 


	7. Chapter Seven

Disclaimer: All not mine.  
  
A/N: I'm back! This is becoming too much like a daily update. Maybe I should let you guys sweat it out first, yes? Wahaha. Anyway, on with the story.  
  
The crowd was cheering as Harry walked up to the platform, grinning wildly. His unruly dark hair was neatly combed and parted, showing in clear view, his lightning bolt scar. His green eyes sparkled; his spectacles were gone. He took the huge silver cup from Professor Dumbledore, and with a glance of appreciation at the cup, he raised it high in the air, causing the crowd to scream in happiness. Harry's grin widened as he heard the announcement.  
  
"Gryffindor wins the Quidditch Cup! Again!"  
  
"Harry blasted Potter! Wake up! We're late! Do you not want breakfast? Because that's fine with me!" Harry blinked sleepily, and slowly opened his eyes, his brows furrowing as the glaring bright sunlight greeted him.  
  
"We won," he mumbled, still half-asleep. "We won."  
  
His best friend, Ron Weasley, gave an impatient snort. "Yes yes, we won. Now will you wake up?!"  
  
"Ron?" was the quizzical reply. Ronald Weasley nodded impatiently. "Yes, Ron. Ron. Wake up already. We're late!" Suddenly, Harry gripped the sleeves of his robes.  
  
"What time is it?"  
  
"Nine, why?"  
  
Harry gave a shout of dismay and jumped out of his bed, screaming. "I'm late. I'm late." He rushed into the bathroom, leaving Ron to stare after with raised eyebrows.  
  
"A little slow on the uptake, aren't you?" He muttered to no one in particular, and headed off to the great hall for breakfast.  
  
+++  
  
Hermoine glanced at her watch, and sighed. She had been waiting for the past hour. ^Breakfast will be gone by now^ she thought bitterly. She was in the secret room that only Harry and her knew, waiting for Harry, who was supposed to be there.  
  
Just then, he rushed into the room, and stopped, smiling sheepishly at her. His hair was messier than usual, if that was possible. His specs were hanging off one ear. His robes were in disarray, and his tie was hung loosely over his neck. One of his collars stuck up. He was also breathing heavily.  
  
Hermoine's anger disappeared and her heart softened. With a resigned sigh, she walked over to him, and gently pushed his glasses up his nose. Her hands reached over and re-tie his Gryffindor tie, tucking it neatly beneath the collars. Adjusting his robes to perfection, she stood back to survey him with a critical eye. His hair was still messy and stuck up behind the ears.  
  
"You need a haircut," she commented, noticing that the back of his thick dark hair was now resting on the second collar of his shirt. "The longer it gets, the more unruly, you know?"  
  
"I look fine," he replied defensively, reaching up and smoothing his dark hair in an attempt to tame it. It worked, but just barely. He reached over and grabbed her hands. "I'm sorry for being so late. I overslept."  
  
Hermoine shook her head in forgiveness. "We're late, you know?"  
  
"Let's skip first period then," he suggested. Hermoine opened her mouth to protest, but Harry's puppy-dog look was getting to her. "Besides, my first period is divination, and there's nothing to learn from it. If I recall right, you have muggle studies. Hermoine, you were born in the muggle world. What do you need to study?"  
  
"That's true," she admitted. She gave a sly smile. "Harry Potter, you're a bad influence, you know that?"  
  
"I delight in that, my dear," he said, giving her a formal bow.  
  
+++  
  
Harry leaned against the back of the couch, absently stroking Hermoine's hair as she lay asleep on his lap. She looked so peaceful that he didn't want to wake her up. His head shot up as he heard a sound in the corner. Slowly, as not to wake Hermoine up, he stood up and walked towards the sound. It was covered in shadows, and suddenly, he saw two red blinking things that looked suspiciously like eyes. He didn't notice his own eyes blinking red in return.  
  
"Harry? What are you doing there?" Hermoine asked, sitting up. There was no response. "Harry?" He turned in shock and smiled at her.  
  
"Hey Herm, you're awake." He walked towards her. "We should be getting to second period right about now you know?" Hermoine nodded, and leading the way she walked out of the door. Harry followed suit, but because her back was turned to Harry, she didn't notice his eyes blinking red three times.  
  
+++  
  
A/N: Oh no! What's happening now? What's wrong with Harry? Wait for the next chapter! Wahaha! Review please. No review, no story. I mean it! =P 


	8. Chapter Eight

Disclaimer: I've got no money, so don't bother suing. Just for the record, Harry Potter does not belong to me.  
  
"They're not your friends anymore, Harry. You only have yourself. That's why we're so alike, you and I. We're made to do great things, Harry, and these people are just obstacles, blocking us away from the prize." The seductive, lilting voice echoed. Harry looked around him; all around him were darkness, so cold, and yet so welcoming.  
  
"No, they're my true friends. They're loyal to me."  
  
"Loyal? Never, Harry, never loyal. They just want fame, Harry Potter, and who easier to provide them that than you, the famous Harry Potter?"  
  
Harry shook his head stubbornly. "No! They're my friends. Ron, and Hermoine!" An amused chuckled rang out in the darkness. "What's so amusing?" Harry demanded defensively.  
  
"Poor poor Harry, don't you know? Your loyal friend Ron is right now scheming to steal your precious Hermoine away. You think she really loves you, Harry Potter? You're just a substitute for Ron!  
  
Harry shook his head again. "It can't be," he denied, his voice softer, as if trying to convince himself. From the darkness, two red blinking lights appeared.  
  
"But it is happening. They've turned against you. You're alone. ALONE."  
  
Harry sat up sharply, panting heavily. His forehead was beaded with perspiration, and his scar was positively burning. His first reaction was to wake Ron up and confide to him about his dream, but as he stared as his friend sleeping peacefully, a small smile on his face, Harry felt his anger boil up. He's dreaming about Hermoine. He's thinking of ways to get her back. He's not my friend. He's evil.  
  
Unknown to him, Harry clenched his fists tightly, barely noticing as his nails drew blood from his palm. His green eyes shone with a sadistic light, and seemed to narrow in concentration. He reached for his wand, but stopped when the voice in his head called out. Be patient, Harry. Soon you will be the most powerful. Soon you will have your revenge.  
  
"But-," Harry started, as he looked at himself in the mirror. His mirror image took on a stance of an evil villain - narrowed eyes, lips pursed tightly, tensed jaw - all in all, a look that could kill. No buts. To do great things, Harry, you must be patient. Be patient.  
  
Harry nodded obediently to his mirror image, his eyes big and innocent, like a young child listening to words of advice from his grandfather. "Yes, I will be patient," he whispered. He laid his head against the soft pillow, and promptly fell asleep.  
  
+++  
  
"Harry, wake up." Harry opened his eyes and blinked sleepily. He stared groggily at Ron for a few minutes, before focusing his gaze on the sky outside. It was a bright blue, with a thin mist covering it. He turned back to Ron and frowned.  
  
"Weasley, it's dawn. Isn't it a little too early?" Harry asked, sitting up. He had a weird feeling at the back of his head, and he had the sudden urge to snap at Ron. Using all his self-control, he forced himself to rein his anger in before it could burst out.  
  
"Well, captain. You were the one who wanted us to practice today. The entire team's waiting for you. Come along now, Harry."  
  
"Hang on a minute," Harry said, raising a hand. "Why don't you go down and tell the team to have some breakfast first. I'll be down shortly." Ron nodded, and jauntily sauntered off. Harry stared at his retreating back and wondered for the life of him why he was so angry with Ron. "Must have woke up on the wrong side of the bed, Potter," he muttered to himself, as he reached for his clothes and headed to the bathroom.  
  
+++  
  
After two hours of grueling practice, Harry stumbled into the secret room, glad for the air-conditioner that Hermoine, who was curled up on the couch reading, had considerately conjured up. She looked up and gave him a sweet smile, and Harry felt his heart stop. There was a nagging feeling in him, a part that was angry with Hermoine, but he couldn't figure out why, and frankly, he didn't care. He can never be angry with Hermoine, not unless he was seriously possessed.  
  
"Thanks for the air-conditioner," he said as a greeting, pointing up to the subject of his sentence. He sat on the floor next to the couch, and whipped out his wand. Muttering a spell, he felt a wave of cool air brush past him, and he looked down. His perspiration that had drenched his hair and face was gone, as if evaporated into thin air. His robes were neatly worn, and his tie was in a perfect knot.  
  
"How was practice?" Hermoine asked, as she bent down to give him a greeting kiss. Harry closed his eyes, and deepened the kiss. After seconds, he pulled away and dropped his head back, against the couch.  
  
"Terrible. The team still can't get used to the new routine, and we're playing against Hufflepuff in a week. We have to win this game." Hermoine slipped a quill between the pages of the book she was reading and put it down. She sat up and placed her hands on either side of Harry's shoulder blades, gently messaging them. "Thanks you," he said gratefully.  
  
"Try to relax, Harry. It's just a game," Hermoine said. Although she did agree that Quidditch was a great spectators' sport, she just didn't see the fuss about it.  
  
Harry snapped his head back up and turned to glare at her. "It's not just a game to me, ok?" he started hotly, his face flushing an angry red. "It's really important, and I'm sorry if you don't get it, but it's my life!" Hermoine widened her eyes, and Harry could see the hurt in those hazel pools. He immediately felt guilty, and despite his sudden anger, he apologized. "I'm sorry, Herm. I'm just really stressed right now."  
  
She gave him a small smile; small, yet forgiving smile. "I understand," she assured him. "No offense taken."  
  
Harry ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "I've been really hot- tempered today," he confided with a sheepish smile. "Must have woken up on the wrong side of the bed, huh?"  
  
"You don't say," Hermoine drawled sarcastically, a mischievous grin on her face. "You're just stressed," she told him. "Turn around, I'll give you that massage again." Harry shook his head and leaned his head forward, his forehead touching hers.  
  
"There ARE other things to help me de-stress," he hinted, not very subtly, with a twinkle in his green eyes. Hermoine gave a soft and short laugh, as she leaned forward to kiss him. In that moment, Harry felt the anger that had been stirring at the back of his head disappear, if only but for a moment. +++  
  
A/N: Well then, Chapter eight's up! =P. You guys, please please please review. I'm begging you, REVIEW! =P. 


	9. Chapter Nine

Disclaimer: Refer to previous chapters. =P.  
  
A/N: Thanks for all the reviews. and comments. I've tried to re-correct my mistakes, and if there are some more, I beg you, do tell. =P. Thanks, guys! Also, I might take a long time for the next chapter, but I'll write more, so you guys, REVIEW!  
  
The red haired boy smiled spitefully at Harry, tightening his arm around the shoulders of a much shorter girl with brown hair that had blond highlights from the sun. Harry felt his insides churned and he reached in for his wand, and opened his mouth. The words of the deadly Avedra Kedavra curse had almost escaped; when he closed his mouth again, unable to perform such a cruel deed to his best friend and girlfriend.  
  
As Ron Weasley, with his arms still around Hermoine Granger faded in the overwhelming darkness that Harry had begun to feel strangely comfortable around, an angry hiss seemed to echo from all around.  
  
"You stu-." The voice stopped abruptly, before continuing in a much calmer tone. "Harry, Harry. Look at the way they've been treating you. They cheat on you, behind your back. Do you still call them your loyal friend? Harry, only I am your loyal friend. I am your only loyal friend and you can trust me, and do you know why, Harry Potter?"  
  
Harry shook his head slightly, and the voice laughed, a cold, eerie laugh that Harry found strangely familiar.  
  
"You can trust me, Harry Potter, because I am YOU, just as you are me. Harry, you can trust no one, but yourself."  
  
"But Ron-," Harry started hesitantly, standing up for his best friend. The voice interrupted. "No Ron! He's laughing at you, at your naïve self!"  
  
Harry's eyes blinked an angry red, and slowly, he nodded. "He's not my friend," he chanted softly. "He's laughing at me. I hate him." The voice laughed louder as Harry punctuated his statement.  
  
"I HATE HIM!"  
  
+++  
  
Harry blinked open his eyes sleepily, and sat up, stretching his back. He caught sight of his reflection in his mirror, and his eyes blinked red. Giving a resolute nod, his lips curled into a semblance of a smile. He had much to do.  
  
+++  
  
Hermoine sat at the dining table, smiling at Ron, who was frantically cramming all his Transfiguration notes (and Hermoine's) into his brain before the finals later that day. "Ron, you're not going to get anything done by an hour, trust me. If you had listen to me, and not spend ALL your time with a certain Lavender," she chided, raising a knowing eyebrow, "you might be able to pass this very difficult exam."  
  
"Oh bloody stuff it, Herm," Ron shot back good-naturedly. Finally giving up, he tossed the notes on the table, and buried his head in his hands. "I'm going to bloody fail this test," he groaned, his voice sounding muffled.  
  
Hermoine felt a stab of pity for her best friend. "Well, that's not entirely true," she said, her voice softening. Ron looked up hopefully, and gave her his trademark 'please-help-me' stare. She sighed in resignation, and shook her head smiling. "Come on, I'll teach you. It's really easy." Ignoring the snort that Ron gave, she proceeded to teach him all she knew about Transfiguration.  
  
+++  
  
"Malfoy, just the man I was looking for," Harry called out. Draco Malfoy, now a devilishly handsome young man, stopped. He turned and faced with Harry, a vengeance in his eyes. Malfoy's father was in Azkaban Prison, and rotting there, and it was all because of Harry. If Harry hadn't defeated Voldermort, Draco's father would still be welding tons of power today, and Draco wouldn't have to suffer through humiliation from his so-called friends.  
  
"What the hell do you want this time, Potter? Come to throw me into prison too," he asked, jutting his chin out slightly, in an attempt to appear dignified.  
  
"No, Malfoy, I need your help."  
  
Draco laughed, a laugh without humor. "My help, Potter? What happened to Weasel and the bloody mudblood? Ask them for help. Whatever possessed you to think that I will help you?" Draco took a step closer, and leaned forward, narrowing his eyes at Harry. "Get lost, Potter, before I lose it."  
  
"Ooh, really scary Malfoy," Harry scorned. He pushed Draco back, and surveyed him with a tilt of his head. "I can get your father out of Azkaban. Or better still, I can give you the power that your father had. No one will ever look down on you again. I can give you even more power than what Voldermort gave your father."  
  
Draco was taken back. "What?"  
  
"You heard me, Malfoy. If you follow me, I'll give you everything you want. I defeated Voldermort, and I'm the world's strongest wizard. Unlike Voldermort, that wimp, I am NOT afraid of Dumbledore. I can do greater things, Malfoy," Harry assured, raising an eyebrow. "Well, are you in, or out?"  
  
"Had enough of doing good, Potter?" Malfoy asked, getting back his arrogance. He prepared to turn away, when Harry laid his hand on Malfoy's shoulder. Malfoy could feel the power radiating of Harry, and he stopped, turning back to Harry. "You really are evil now, aren't you?" he asked incredulously. "This isn't just some kind of sick joke that you cooked up, is it? You are evil."  
  
"Took you a long time, Malfoy. Took you a long time."  
  
Malfoy stood still for a moment, stunned. Finally he nodded. "I'll join you," he agreed. There was a short pause, and Malfoy swallowed hard. "Master," he acknowledged. Harry let out a chilling laugh.  
  
"I promise you, Malfoy. Power beyond imagination," Harry promised, nodding to his follower, who would later become his right-hand man.  
  
+++  
  
After briefing Malfoy to keep quiet about his turn-over, as he would like to call his turning over to the dark side, Harry strolled towards the dining room, where he knew he would find Hermoine there. Despite his anger for everyone surrounding him, he couldn't help but look forward to seeing Hermoine. While his plan consisted of destroying everyone close to him, he had planned to entice Hermoine into the world of darkness, instead of killing her.  
  
As he caught sight of Hermoine talking to someone who was hidden behind the pillar, Harry's spirits soared, and he felt like the Harry before the turn- over. He smiled happily and took a few steps closer, before his steps faltered. Hermoine was talking to Ron, and as Harry took in the scene, Ron said something to Hermoine and they both laughed.  
  
They're laughing at me. Even Hermoine's against me. No, it can't be. Harry thought to himself. His eyes blinked red in anger, as Hermoine and Ron laughed again. Even though they were so far away from him, he seemed to be able to hear their spiteful laughter surrounding him, blinding him.  
  
He felt hurt, and betrayed. Without a word, he turned around and stomped off. His change was complete.  
  
+++  
  
A/N: All right, what do you think of it? Getting suspenseful, yes? Review, or no next chapter! =P 


	10. Chapter Ten

Disclaimer: Does not belong to me.  
  
A/N: Hey guys, I'm back again, after a long break. School had just started and I was really really busy.  
  
To cyberfrogx: Harry isn't weak-minded. Not to ruin the suspense, but I guess I do owe you an explanation, yes? I was trying to portray the irony of the fact that because of his love for Hermoine, he was so easily 'turned'. Do remember that Harry, despite his extraordinary powers, is still a possessive teen, and pressure does get to him. But thanks all the same. =P.  
  
To GracieInCreek: Well, you've got your wish. I'm matching Ron up with Lavender. Thanks for reviewing. =P. I hope you're happy. =P.  
  
To Sarah Asher: Thank you for being one of the few who actually believes that Harry could go angsty. As for the H/D fics, well, I think I'll stick to H/Hr for now. =P.  
  
For the rest of you guys, thanks also for the reviews. I appreciate every single one of them, and will do my best to correct any mistakes I have. =P. Please continue!  
  
Now guys, a note of warning here: I might not be able to update as frequently as before, but updating IS inevitable and I will update, though I'm not sure how long I'll take. But I absolutely love reviews, and a little review would help encourage me to finish the chapter faster. That was a hint by the way. =P. So how's this, let's make a deal. You give me 50 reviews, and I give you a chapter.  
  
All right then, on with the show!  
  
+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++  
  
Harry watched the sun rise up, and a bitter smile crossed his lips for a brief moment. Smiles seldom appear his face when he's alone, and even a bitter smile was rare, like a glimpse of the end of a rainbow that fades away in an instance. His bed was packed and he glanced at the clock. It was time to meet Hermoine down at the secret room. With hatred in his heart, and a vengeance in his eyes, he slowly strolled down the corridor. Several students, mostly from Slytherin, let him pass respectfully, their heads bowing subtly. In the last few months, Harry had managed to gather support from many students, not just those in Slytherin, but in other houses too. His "sincere" stare and "earnest" urges had attracted many people, who all believed that they were going to enjoy power beyond imagination.  
  
He stood at the door to the room, and closed his eyes. Pasting a bright smile on his face, he pushed open the door. Once again, he was amazed at Hermoine's beauty, the way light seemed to reflect off her, giving her a radiant glow. Despite his hatred, he couldn't help but feel a faint stirring of feelings; someplace buried deep beneath the hatred - love.  
  
"Hey," she greeted with a shy smile. Harry nodded in return, his lips automatically shaping itself into a smile. He allowed himself to breathe in her scent as he hugged her tight. She clasped her hand in his and led him to the couch. Sitting down next to you, he tried his best to act like an attentive boyfriend.  
  
"So, school term's ending," Hermoine started. "You know, you could come over at my place to stay during the holidays if the Durselys' treat you terribly. My parents won't mind; they'll be delighted."  
  
"No," Harry declined firmly. He averted his gaze and looked around the room. "They won't be a problem," he added coldly. Hermoine lifted her head from his chest, and slowly studied him.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
Harry shrugged and stood up. "I've to go pack. I'll see you later," he said, changing the subject smoothly. He gave a quick kiss, and walked off.  
  
+++  
  
Hermoine Granger sat on her bed, fingering the newspaper cuttings on her bed, some old, and some recent. She heard screams from outside her apartment, but she did nothing. In these times, screams were often heard, and there was nothing anyone could do. It was dark times, even darker than when Voldermort ruled the wizarding world.  
  
Slowly, she reached out and gingerly held to one particular newspaper article, bearing the loud headline "Death of Albus Dumbledore. Killed by beloved student, Harry Potter." As she watched, the headline faded into the paper and a new one popped out. "Harry Potter turned!" Her tears dropped onto the yellowed paper, as she viewed the picture. She saw Harry's malicious grin as he waved the wand at Dumbledore. She saw Dumbledore pleading for Harry to return to the light. She saw Harry killed Dumbledore, and relishing it.  
  
Despite having seen this ten years old article many times, she still could not help but feel horrified at the man Harry had became. She didn't know when he changed, but she had a vague idea she should know. When they went home after the school term, she received news that the Durselys' had died of an unknown cause. Harry did not mourn for them. She should have noticed something wrong by then; no matter how much Harry hated them, he wouldn't feel happy at their death. But she trusted him, thought that the whole thing had nothing to do with him. Harry was sent back to Hogwarts, and it during that time that he killed Dumbledore. It was during that time that he revealed himself as a dark lord.  
  
At sixteen, Harry Potter became the youngest dark wizard in the history of the wizarding world.  
  
Hermoine felt a wave of anger and betrayal. Harry had quickly gained power in the wizarding world; no one could stop him. The followers that he had gathered when in school went around killing the people that threatened to overthrow Harry, which wasn't many. Nobody dared to go against him, not even the people who went against Voldermort. Harry Potter became the boy who killed Dumbledore, a feat many dark wizards, including Voldermort, had tried, and failed. Sirius Black was thrown back to Azkaban Prison, where he was tormented by the Dementors, and the fact that James Potter's son had betrayed him, that he went crazy after a few months and died.  
  
Ron Weasley, ashamed at the monster his friend had become, vowed to suppress the monster that haunted his friend's body. He started an underground society whose main aim was to go against Harry Potter. The society was short-lived; Draco Malfoy, right-hand man of Harry, hunted members of the society personally, and in one swift move, killed them all. Ron escaped and disappeared, and for the last seven years, that had been no contact from him.  
  
Hermoine had survived the killing rampage, and for a while she harbored the hope that Harry spared her because he still loved her, but it wasn't long before that naïve thinking left. She knew why Harry spared her. He wanted her to suffer. Death comes quickly, and in these times, it was a comfort. Harry didn't want her dead, he wanted her to suffer. Her parents were brutally murdered by Malfoy, with a note written to her in her parents' blood. The gist of it was basically that Harry didn't think her parents were worth his time, and so he didn't even bother killing them himself.  
  
The Weasleys, who were wonderfully kind to her, also met with misfortunes. Arthur Weasley was killed by one of the Dark Vengeance, which was what the followers of Harry called themselves. Molly Weasley, heart-broken, soon followed suit. Charlie, Bill and Percy were thrown into Azkaban, where they suffered, up until this very day. Ginny Weasley, in an attempt to fight for her survival, severed all ties with her family to join the Dark Vengeance.  
  
She became the girlfriend of Draco Malfoy, and unknowingly fell in love with him. Fearing that she would soften Malfoy's heart, Harry ordered her to be executed, and executed she was. On a cold winter's night, outside the ruins once known as Hogwarts, Ginny Weasley was killed, by none other than the one who she never thought would lay a finger on her, the one who promised her love and glory. On a cold winter's night, Ginny Weasley had the Avedra Kedavra curse put on her, by Draco Malfoy.  
  
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Hermoine shuffled the newspaper cuttings together, and gently placed them in a small box. As she arranged the papers into the box, her eyes caught sight of a key chain Harry had made for her so very long ago, using acorn and figs. She stared at the key chain for a long while, her face impassive. After what seemed like eternity, she put the newspaper articles in, and closed the box. She looked up suddenly, and seemed to realize something.  
  
The screaming had stopped. Yet another person had been killed.  
  
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A/N: *gasp*! What will happen next? All will be revealed when you review! 


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